What Can I Say?
by Don't Abandon Hope
Summary: An Eldest OneShot; Arya overhears a shared secret between Islanzadi and Oromis. A kind of what if scenario and basically don't shoot me for it not being cannon.


A/N : _Okay look; I know I'm probably the only one who ships these two but what are you going to do about it?_

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><p>"What can I say?" he asked. "You know the reasons; you know that I never wanted to; you know I tried so hard not to. What can I say that you don't already know?" Oromis sighed. "That rule was put in place when Eragon Peacebringer made his pact with the dragons. I cannot change it; no one can. And yet …" he ran a hand over his face. "And yet I get the feeling some rules were made to be broken … Ah life is a burden sometimes, especially when you look back and realise that now you have to account for those actions you made long ago without a second's thought."<p>

Islanzadí looked at him, "Let's get through this Agaeti Blodhren before you go saying anything that sounds promising, Shur'tugal."

"Aye, perhaps that is the wisest course." Oromis agreed, running a hand over his face. "Does she know?"

"Does who know what?"

"Arya … does she know I'm her father?"

Pain flickered across the queen's face. "You yourself convinced me it was best to let her – and the world – believe she was Evander's child … No. She does not know."

Oromis sighed and sat down with his head in his hands on a fallen tree with the Agaeti Blodhren swirling around them. "Eragon knows."

Islanzadí frowned as she sat beside him; "How?"

"He's smarter than you give him credit for … and it's not difficult to figure it out." The old Rider looked up across at the mother of his child – the woman he loved despite the rule put in place to prevent him loving – and voiced something he'd been meaning to say for a long time. Because they hadn't had a conversation about Arya as parents since her return, he'd been unable to mention it to the queen. "You do know that she loves him … don't you?"

Islanzadí looked down at the ground for a long moment. "She's yet to admit to that herself … but yes. I know." There was nothing to be done about such a thing, and even though they both wished it to be otherwise they knew that if the opportunity arose to sway their daughter away from giving her heart to the young Rider, they wouldn't. It was her choice.

"Were we really going to let her settle for anyone less than Brom's son?" he asked with the hint of a smile.

"I doubt she could've fallen for anyone else, even if she'd wanted too." Islanzadí agreed, "When her mother made the exact same mistake she did; how could she love anyone but a Rider?"

Oromis reached out and took her hand in his.

"There is no one I'd trust with our daughter's heart, other than him."

The queen pulled a face, "He's just a boy, Oromis."

"No. Not after what he's endured … he may have been a boy when he arrived, but I'll assure you now that by the time I'm through with him, he will have the right to stand tall a man." With another sigh Oromis added; "It's what this war has made us resort to; we force our children to leave behind childhood long before they're ready because we ourselves are not capable of doing what must be done."

"Arya will not like to hear you call her child." Islanzadí chided with a smile.

"But she is. In our eyes she is no older than Eragon is in the eyes of his people … I should never have let her take that egg …"

"It was my choice to make." They both looked up to find Arya standing before them, leaning against the trunk of a tree. The dress she wore finished just above her knees and the bodice hugged her torso leaving her arms and shoulders free; she was beautiful.

"He knows that, child." Islanzadí said gently, "How much have you overheard?" she added, narrowing her eyes at her daughter. Arya's stony silence was enough of an answer for Oromis and Islanzadí.

"Why?" the word was uttered dryly from her mouth; an accusation and a demand for the truth she had been denied all her life without being aware of it.

"To protect you," Oromis whispered, looking at the ground. Through the trees he heard and saw the elves singing and dancing to the celebration. "It was safer, for many of our race didn't approve of my hiding out here in safety; nor did they approve of your mother abandoning the king so lightly for me as she did. If they had known you were my child, you'd have been dead within a week of being born – that's only if they hadn't killed your mother before then."

Arya slid to the ground and sat in a heap at the bottom of the tree with her legs out stretched and her feet bare. The dress she'd chosen for the occasion – a plain unbleached linen one – had the odd stain on it from the celebration and the skirt was splayed out on the ground. Her shoulders were bare and her hair hung loose and free down her back. Oromis found himself wondering – yet again – why he was so lucky in deserving a daughter such as Arya.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" she whispered after a moment.

Islanzadí stirred, her hand still entwined with Oromis's, "I don't know …" They fell silent again, the three of them unsure what to say and where to go from here; while she may resent being excluded from the truth, Arya was clever enough to understand there were genuine reasons behind the deception.

"What rule were you on about?" she asked, turning her attention to Oromis for the first time since announcing her presence.

_She has the right to know_, Glaedr pointed out.

"To forsake all romantic attachments, lest they sway us Riders from our duty." Oromis replied gently, removing his hand from the queen's at that point, something Arya picked up on immediately. "Yet I was not the only one to fall by the wayside … by the time Glaedr and I joined the ranks of the order, the rule had long been neglected."

"But not forgotten."

"No. Not forgotten," he was pleased, as he always was, that she was so quick-minded. "It had become common for Riders to have families; husbands, wives and children … but we were expected to sacrifice all that for the sake of our duty if need be it."

Arya frowned as Islanzadí shifted on the fallen tree beside him. He reached out and took her hand again. "Did that happen?" his daughter asked in a soft whisper.

Oromis nodded. "Some Riders did have to, yes … although they never forgave themselves for it afterwards. One Rider – she had to abandon her family to join Brom and Evander in battle. Needless to say the Forsworn killed them all … and she lost her dragon to Shruikan."

"What happened to her?"

"She's still around – somewhere – although I believe she uses a different name and keeps herself to herself so as not to make that mistake again." Oromis saw Arya's eyes narrowing slightly and wondered idly if she knew whom he'd spoken of. When she didn't speak again he assumed not.

"Since when has Eragon been Brom's son?"

Oromis let a small smile creep up his face. He'd wondered if her curiosity would overwhelm her enough to mention that part of the conversation she'd undoubtedly overheard. However, he decided not to bring up her bond with Eragon if she didn't. "Brom discovered he had a son when duelling Morzan. Eragon's mother was Morzan's consort and Black Hand; however in meeting Brom she fell in love with him enough to change who she was and enable her to work for the Varden against him." Arya nodded, and Oromis knew the queen was listening intently too – despite already knowing the story. He continued his narrative as best he could.

"Morzan asked if Brom had been responsible for Selena disappearing and when he finally did kill Morzan, Brom hid the egg where the Varden would find it and went looking for her only to discover that she'd arrived back at the castle, dying. She lived long enough to tell him about Eragon – and where she'd left him."

"With her brother in Carvahall," Arya interrupted. Evidently Eragon had told her that much of his childhood already.

"No. Brom journeyed to an isolated farm three miles outside of Dras Leona and found the baby – Eragon – in the care of an elderly couple. Selena had given them a likeness of Brom so that they would know who he was when he came for the baby. Handing him over, Brom brought him to the Varden and revealed he was alive. Then he came here and hammered out that arrangement concerning the new Rider and gave you the egg."

"I don't remember him having a baby with him!" Arya protested. Apparently the idea of Eragon having already been to both the Varden and Ellesméra threw her.

"We gave him to Rhunion to mind that day and I looked after him in my hut while Brom was busy sorting out the details of that truce. Eragon even stayed with me for a few months when Brom went with you back to the Varden with the egg for the first time." Oromis smiled slightly at Arya's look.

"Why didn't he just stay with Eragon here and raise him then? It would've been safer by far – and Saphira would've probably of hatched for him all the sooner." Islanzadí asked then.

Oromis looked at them both. "Because word would've undoubtedly gotten back to Galbatorix that his most elusive enemy had fathered a son. Legions of soldiers would've lined the boarders of the forest and we would be trapped. That and Selena wanted him to grow up in her village."

"It must've been doubly hard to give Eragon over to his aunt and uncle and watch them raise him from afar," Arya whispered softly.

"Aye – but he did it; _to keep him safe_. A parent will do anything to protect their child – no matter the hardship and pain it causes them."

She nodded and turned away and Oromis knew she accepted their decision and reasons not to tell her the truth. After a moment, Arya got to her feet, dusting off the back of her dress, before joining them on the fallen tree. Hesitantly, she rested her head against Oromis's shoulder and he placed an arm around her. _How long have you longed to hold her like that with her in the knowledge you are her father?_

_Too long_.

"Does he know?" Oromis looked at his daughter as she sat up. "Eragon – does he know?" Oromis shook his head. "Why not?"

"Because he's not ready … not yet." Arya frowned, and he sighed. "It would distract him too much and he is still too much a boy to be able to look at the truth objectively as you have. He would resent Brom too much to see that he loved him as much as he did."

Arya glanced through the trees, lost in thought for a moment. "I suppose you want me not to tell him then? And swear I won't speak to him about it until you've told him?" Oromis nodded once as she turned back to him and she sighed. "I promise."

Islanzadí was watching her daughter intently and Oromis knew that look in her eye to mean she was contemplating bringing up that other subject about Eragon. Arya was pointedly avoiding eye contact with them both, which caused a smirk on Oromis's face; she could be so petty and childish when she wanted to be.

"He knows," Oromis said gently.

Arya flickered her gaze towards him resentful over him bringing it up. "Who knows what?" Islanzadí laughed at Arya's determination to feign ignorance.

"Eragon knows about the rule."

"And?"

"Nothing – I was just letting you know. That all."

She shook her head and opened her mouth to speak before closing it again and remaining silent. He wondered if she'd changed her mind or the ancient language had prevented her from saying something that wasn't true. "We're friends," she said firmly.

"I know that," Islanzadí smiled. "And no doubt you love him as a friend?" Arya looked at her mother for a moment, as if trying to determine some trick in that statement, before nodding slowly. Oromis could see that the queen wanted to continue, but Arya had turned away again and he shot her a cautionary glance which told her to leave it there.

Because that was how it had started between himself and Islanzadí; the friendship had slipped unknowingly past the line and hurtled off the cliff into love while they were still adamant that there was nothing going on that shouldn't be. Of course by the time they'd realised it was too late to do anything or change anything and they hadn't really wanted to turn back. The mistake Islanzadí had made – for it was a mistake, even if there was nothing she'd do to prevent it in hindsight – Oromis knew she'd make all over again if the chance to rewrite history ever occurred.

For a long time they remained as they were; a family watching the sun rise on the second day of celebration. Then Islanzadí stirred. "We should get back; not that we will be missed for I doubt anyone has noticed our absence."

"If they have they won't think anything of it," Arya shrugged. Then a mischievous smile lit her face, "I wouldn't wonder too far off the paths, mind you; you may encounter the odd pair busy relishing in the rule of anything goes at the Agaeti Blodhren."

As she got to her feet a sudden suspicion flitted across Oromis's mind and an overwhelming fatherly need to protect her kicked in. "What were _you_ doing back here exactly?"

Her grin widened, but she didn't answer.

"Arya!" Islanzadí made to grab her daughter – probably so she could hold her still and demand a straight answer out of her – but Arya skipped lightly out of reach before darting back into the trees and out of sight.

_You two do realise she went in the opposite direction to the party just to spite you?_

Islanzadí rolled her eyes as Oromis contemplated going to find out just who it was Arya had been occupied with off the path.


End file.
